You are my person
by slythadri
Summary: EWE. Three years after the war, Harry's life is busy and good enough, but it doesn't feel complete. more than anything, he misses his best friend. and now, she's coming back. Would things be the same as before? Could they be even better? Harmione.


Harry's life after the war had settled, but it had turned out different than his initial plan.

The years of auror training had been busy, plus playing his part in rebuilding the government after he took his seat in the Wizengamot had kept him occupied, with little time to invest in his personal life. That's how his relationship with Ginny faded: he was always busy, she was always traveling with the Harpies. When they finally got together for a Christmas dinner at the Burrow they realized they hadn't seen each other in four months, and worst, they didn't miss each other. Not really. Not the way they should have. So instead of forcing a relationship, they decided to call it quits and stay friends. Harry was a Weasley sibling in his own right, so besides Molly's disappointment, there was not much fuzz to it. The Chosen One continued his life as normal as possible, but it was definitely hard to find a decent date, one that didn't have a hidden agenda. It seemed like his fame was a burden to bear and it would still be for a while. He resigned himself to a period of singlehood, unsure of how long that would last.

The one thing that never failed to get him excited was receiving letters from Hermione. She had been gone three years now, as she moved to Australia to work in her parent's memory reparation, then stayed for the reconciliation process that needed to happen after they recognized her and were jolted by what she had done, and finally, when they decided that they forgave her but wanted to remain in Australia, she found an apprenticeship there to be closer and recover some of the lost bonds between them.

Today though, her letter was better than ever: she announced her return. She had finished her apprenticeship and missed being in England, so she applied for a job at the ministry that took longer for the application to be written than for it to be accepted.

A week later, Harry paced the living area of his loft over and over again. He had arranged for the Australian Wizarding Government to provide a portkey directly to his home instead of the Ministry, and of course, no one would deny such a simple favor to the Chosen One. He was getting more anxious by the minute. Would Hermione like his new place? Had she changed much? They had not exchanged photos in the last three years, at first because there were no happy occasions to share and later on they just never got to it. He was now standing in his balcony, holding onto the rail trying to take deep breaths, when a popping sound and the clink of an old bucket announced that his best friend was back. He turned around and she was standing there, wearing a stunning form-fitting wrap dress, more beautiful than he remembered, looking around the unknown room.

"Harry? It's amazing, this place is wonderful! So modern and elegant. Are you a snob now? Where are you?" she said, giggling excitedly.

He realized he was standing frozen on the balcony, mesmerized by the gorgeous woman in his loft. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously and approached slowly as if she was a mysterious creature.

"Not a snob, I reckon. Just plain old me. I hired a decorator to pick my furniture because I didn't know how to do it," he said with a coy smile.

She gave a happy yelp and jump onto his arms. He was barely able to hold her without falling backward, and they embraced for a long time.

When they took half step back her eyes were tearing up.

"Merlin, Harry, this feels like home. I'm home."

He leaned his forehead on hers, keeping his arms around her and closed his eyes, breathing her in

"Welcome home Mione." After a few more minutes of this embrace, he asked: "are you hungry?"

"Yes. Let's go out. I want to see my country. Let's go to Muggle London though, where no one would bother us. And you look great, by the way. I didn't know that auror training had gotten so physical," she said while giving him a playful look. The muscular man in the fitted shirt and dark jeans was worlds away from the scrawny boy that had to wear his fat cousin's old clothes.

They apparated to an alley and she grabbed his hand and pulled them onto the busy streets, suddenly full of excited energy.

"Fish and chips first, then beers!" she commanded, and he happily let himself be dragged around, from a hole in the wall restaurant to a pub, then somehow they ended up in an 80's style nightclub, dancing the night off. At some point an announcer with a mullet haircut and a ridiculous mustache jumped on a stage and offered to pay the tab for the lady with the best dance moves, then he pointed towards a cage where the participants would be taking turns to compete

"This is a respectable place ladies, so keep your clothes on. But make sure that your gentleman friend would want to take them off later!" the mustachioed man quipped. After a couple of girls went up to the cage, Hermione, who by now was two beers and two shots in, said

"I can do so much better than that," and jumped on stage, to a loud chorus of catcalls. Harry didn't have time to react, let alone stop her. He saw her grab onto the bars of the cage and move her hips seductively when the suggestive song started to play

_Livin' on the edge, flyin' down the hill,_

_To where the good girls don't, but the bad girls will, bad girls will,_

Harry gaped. This was Hermione, his best friend, the girl he grew up with. That was her, right? The intoxicatingly beautiful woman dancing in a cage, moving like a snake enchanting her prey?

_Do I know your name?_

_you can tell me lies,_

_Show me all the secrets hidden in your thighs, in your thighs,_

_Seduce me tonight, se-se-seduce me tonight_

_I'll play acts at the stage, dim the lights, and baby, _

_seduce me tonight_

The mustachioed man signaled a couple of waitresses, so one of them set up a chair on the stage while the other grabbed Harry by the hand and guided him up the stage to sit. The waitress opened the cage as if letting loose a wild animal. Hermione walked out straight toward her astonished best friend

_I wanna be your slave, set me in scene_

_Take me all the places that I've never been, never been_

_Play the leading role, love me till I cry_

_Let the curtain fall and love me till I die, till I die_

Good Godric, Hermione was giving him an honest to Merlin lapdance, much to the delight and cheers of all the patrons in the club. When the last notes of the song died down she moved slowly off his lap, kissed her own fingertips and pressed them to his mouth, turned to the cheering crowd and bow, received her ovation, then grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him off the stage while he was still trying to make sense of the whole thing. Before he could muster a coherent reaction she pointed to something on the other side of the room

"A photo booth! Come on, let's take a few pics!"

She put some coins in the slot and pushed Harry inside the curtains, then pulled him down to sit

"Smile!"

The flash started shooting and he managed to smile a bit and tried to keep up, but she was a whirlwind of cute faces and loving gestures. When the first set of pictures came out she pouted

"Harry! You are so rigid! Come on, loosen up!"

She put more coins in the slot and ran back in to sit on his lap. One, two, three poses, then for the last one she turned and kissed him. She stretched to reach for the pictures while Harry was lost in a tornado of thoughts

_Did she not noticed that she just kissed him full on the mouth? Because he did feel it, everywhere in his body. _

"Awe, look, Harry, these are way cuter. I like this one a lot," she said pointing at the picture where she kissed him while he looked at her with wide eyes. Then suddenly she gave a huge yawn. "I think I just run out of energy. Must be the time difference with Australia. Take me home, Harry?"

"Of course," he said, and since they were hiding in the photo booth he simply apparated them to his loft.

When they got there she yawned again, practically falling asleep standing, the mix of exhaustion and alcohol hitting her hard, so he carried her to the bed, then laid down next to her. In the last straw of consciousness, she cuddled onto him and said

"Is like being back in the tent. Remember? When it was just you and me." After that, her deep breathing told him that she was asleep. He pulled her close and thought about those months in the tent. When she would fall asleep in his arms and he had to make an effort to remember that she was in love with his other best friend and that Ginny was waiting for him, and all they provide for each other was some human comfort in the middle of a war. But things were different now. Very different. He moved slowly and brushed a light kiss on her lips, then held her tightly, breathing her scent. A peaceful feeling filled him and in minutes he was asleep too.

Harry woke up a few hours later to the sound of whimpers. It took him a minute to place himself and then realized that the little sounds were coming from the woman in his arms. Her breathing was shallow and she was the one making those soft cries. _Nightmare_, he thought and tried to move her softly to not startle her

"Hermione?"

She gave a deep moan

"Hermione?" He tried again, a bit more firmly. She started to talk in her sleep

"Harry...Oh, Harry…"

Something was off about this. He was about to shake her a little harder when she moaned

"Harry, yes, hmmmm, yes."

He froze, then looked down at her body. Her dress had ridden up her thighs and she was moving her hips in slow, hypnotic circles. He realized the whimpers were actually moans of pleasure. Harry felt a surge of heat course through his body and a delicious tightness in his jeans. It took a lot of self-control to not touch her while she was still asleep, her breasts rising and falling with her ragged breath, threatening to burst out of her wrap dress and her hips tensing up more and more until she arched her back and gave a loud cry, then sat up, suddenly awake, gasping.

She looked around, confused, then saw him lying on the bed, looking at her, biting his lips to try to contain a grin.

"Harry!" She squealed, horrified, "I, I just…"

"Came?" he asked, unable to refrain the grin anymore.

She yelped, mortified, and tried to scramble off the bed but he held her by the wrists and pulled her towards him

"You cried my name," he said in a low growl, "tell me what you were dreaming about."

He had never talked to her like this. She realized that Harry was not a schoolboy anymore. He was a man, an auror, the youngest head auror in history. He was used to giving commands and being obeyed, to get a straight answer to every question he asked. And he was questioning her with that kind of authority. It was unfamiliar and devastatingly sexy.

"I was dreaming of you."

"Tell me more," he ordered, moving them both around to climb on top of her

"You were kissing me."

"Like this?" he said, capturing her mouth, savoring her, his tongue taking what he wanted. She hummed softly in response, wrapping her legs around him and tangling her fingers on his hair. He undid the tie of her dress and it opened to the sides, letting her body exposed to him in only a set of thin lace lingerie. He traced kisses from her mouth down her jaw, neck, collarbone, pulling down the straps and then the cups of her bra, then feasted on the delicious mounds, the scent of her skin familiar and forbidden at the same time. She tangled her fingers on his hair, calling his name again and again, making him ravenous. He continued his trail down over her soft skin until he reached the soaked core, then moved the wet lace aside to savor her. She arched her back and let out a litany of moans and pleas for more, making him rip off the delicate fabric and latch on her like a starving wolf. She came hard, harder even than the dream, but he didn't give her time to recover. In seconds he was out of his clothes and inside of her in one hard trust, pounding mercilessly, chasing his own pleasure as if it was a lesson that she needed to learn. His ecstasy felt like an explosion and he collapsed, still pulsing inside of her.

When Harry came to be, Hermione was running her fingers up and down his back, peppering kisses in every inch of skin that she could reach. It felt so natural, so perfect, she thought, wondering what would he do now.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

He gave a contented sigh, then lifted himself to look at her. "Don't leave me ever again. Please. Stay with me. You are my person. You have always been. Stay with me, please."

She looked into those beautiful emerald eyes and smiled

"This is my home. I'm never leaving again."

* * *

AN: Seduce Me Tonight performed by Cycle V. Songwriters: Giorgio Moroder / Keith Forsey


End file.
